Who are you? Who am I letting dominate my mind and my time and the stories I choose to tell, the secrets that I divulge through words and skin; who did I really see when I saw you and in how many countless ways was I wrong?
Two lovers converged in a dark emerald wood
And the fork in the road led to the ocean
The dock opened up to the swirl of the the rain and the world
And the night was caught in lips that caught each other.
And the warmth of my wrists that carried a spark
Through the roots and the firs towards the house with the key
That we knew the secret hiding place of.
The counter was cool and the bannister felt like satin- like skin- like supple fingers trailing down my stomach
In the cool dark cavern that was A Place To Ourselves
In the deep high fever of my wanting for him
His wanting for me
Wanting each other.
Two lovers converged like hail falling on hail, each drop pop jump was a coupling- an embrace in the hallway on our way to the bed-
and the end of the night
under pillows of liquor.
And the swatch of vanilla fire fizzling thickly on my thumbs my tongue and my swaying feet
And the quiet fast happiness of a Beatles song
And a sloppy fast slowdance
Rush gave way to rush
Breath gave way to touch
And I stroked his back like I needed to
Like I cared that much.
And he felt it.
In the cabin in the storm in the night in the jagged sickness
He felt it.
And that made all the difference.